Redemption
by meholstein
Summary: Michael and Lucifer have been missing from heaven for quite some time. Turns out they've been reincarnating through the centuries, looking for redemption. They found it as Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean is Michael, Sam is Lucifer, Bobby is having a hard time with this new development. Credit to tsuminubiaru. for cover.
1. Chapter 1

**Sam and Dean**

Lucifer had been freed, and they had been magically teleported onto an airplane. The _How_ and _Why_ escaped him, but he was disinclined to question it (since all answers pointed to God).

They rushed to Chuck's house, looking for Castiel and Chuck. "He's blown apart," Chuck said, picking teeth and guts and terror out of his hair.

Dean crushed the heartbreak, Sam too, their friend in battle wiped out in an instant.

When Zachariah showed up in the house is when it all turned to shit.

"Thought we'd find you here," Zachariah said, wearing that damned lawyer.

"You just keep your distance, asshat," Dean spat. _You started the fucking apocalypse, not Sam or me or anyone else, you manipulated us right into it._

"In another day I'd lightly banter with you, but this is not the time. Events are not turning out as planned."

"Oh, aren't they?" Dean mocked roundly. _Wonder what that feels like._

"You freed Lucifer, Sam," Zachariah said, rounding on him. "Except that you didn't."

"What?" Sam said, taken aback. His temp was one fifty, his eyes were black, Chuck said. He was pretty sure that's what happened.

"Oh you opened the cage all right, but when the first angels got there there was nothing in there," Zachariah said. "So either you already said yes and allowed him to take you, or we lost him already, and both are not good."

"Oh, so now that you've gone and fucked up your apocalypse you're crying to us?" Dean snarled, almost livid. "Sam hasn't said yes to anything."

"Yeah, check me, I'm no angel," Sam laughed, almost manically. Not an hour after he started the apocalypse, they lost track of Satan, and apparently he was the meat suit destined for him.

It settled in comfortably with Sam's self-hate. Part-demon, murder, the living body for Satan himself.

"I can see that," Zachariah said dryly. "You better watch yourself, boy, or we might smite you pre-emptively. And Dean," He said, rounding on him. "We'll get you to – "

The angels were banished, Dean slamming his hand down on the banishing sigil.

"So I'm Lucifer's chosen vessel," Sam laughed, still reeling. "Great! Just great." He felt an overwhelming temptation to collapse on Chuck's dilapidated couches and ignore whatever the fuck had been happening for the last six hours. _This can't be real._

A wonderful revenge plan that was supposed to kill Lilith freed Lucifer, Ruby was playing him, the angels playing Dean, and now Sam was actually guilty of everything Dean accused him of. He hadn't gone darkside, but he had doomed the world.

"He needs a yes, just like all of these other douchebags, and he ain't getting it," Dean growled. There was a lot he doubted about Sam, but this wasn't one of those things.

"You're damn right," He said. That was the least he could fucking do.

 **Dean and Sam**

Dean and Sam hole up with Bobby, and pour over files. It doesn't take them long to put together Chuck's riddle and locate the Michael Sword.

The demon possessing Bobby attacks, and they get Bobby to a hospital and they get to John's lockup.

Dean and Sam bust into the lockup, shotguns ready, demons already dead on the floor.

"I see you told the demons where the sword is," Zachariah said, laughing lightly.

"Oh thank God, the _angels_ are here," Dean snapped, sarcasm thick in his voice.

"And to think, they could have grabbed it anytime they wanted," Zachariah continued. "It was right in front of them."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, already dreading the answer.

"We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us."

"We don't have anything," Dean said dryly.

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword."

Dean stared blankly, then laughed. "Of course I am, because Sam's Lucifer's angel condom, why shouldn't I be Michael's? That's symbolic, brother versus brother, cute. But no thanks."

"I can't believe you even thought you could kill Lucifer, Dean. You're a human, and not much of one." Zachariah was having his go at Dean, and he looked like he was enjoying it.

"Lets go, Sammy," Dean said, turning away.

"I don't think so," Zachariah said, making a finger gun and pointing it at Sam. "Bang."

There was a sickening crunch, and Sam crying out in pain. "God damn it, you dick," Dean snarled.

"Keep mouthing off, I'll break more than his legs. I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?"

"How many humans die in the crossfire, huh? A million? Five, ten?" Dean pressed. He didn't give a shit about heaven's agenda, the good God of the Bible was an absentee father and he'd already had enough of those.

"If we don't find and destroy Lucifer, all of them will."

"They wouldn't if you just hadn't started the apocalypse," Dean snarled. "You need my consent, and you'll never have it."

"Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby—we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, and we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again."

Dean swallowed thickly, pictured Bobby's anguished face. _Never walk again_. "No."

"Then how about we heal you from...stage-four stomach cancer?"

Dean's gut erupted in pain, and he immediately coughed up blood. He felt like his stomach was cramping, caving in, all encompassing pain. "No," he said, knowing he'd die soon. This was better than Bobby's lifelong disability.

"Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how...Sam does without his lungs." Another finger, and Sam is gaping like a fish on the floor.

"Just kill us already," Dean said desperately, a little too desperately, still coughing up blood. God damn it, he was watching Sam die, _again_.

Out of nowhere, Castiel shows up, stabs everyone but Zachariah. Dean's glad, Dean's thrilled, except that Sam is still rolling around without lungs like a fish and his skin is turning blue and he's watching Sam suffocate while he's coughing up blood and dying, and if Castiel doesn't hurry it up they'll both be in hell before Castiel can save them.

"How are you – "

"Great question," Castiel sad blandly. "How did those boys end up on that airplane? Another great question. One I think is worth considering. Put these boys back together, and I won't ask twice."

Zachariah looks at Castiel, one long murderous look, and as he disappears with a wingbeat Sam and Dean are made whole.

"What are those around your neck?" Dean asked. He knew what angel grace looked like, bottled up from Anna, and there were two identical bottles around Castiel's neck.

Castiel instead put his hands on their chests, and they were both assaulted with the scraping pain.

"What the hell," Dean said, as quickly as Castiel said "Enochian sigils to hide you from other angels. All angels in creation, actually."

"What did you do, brand us?" Sam asked, and Castiel replied "Carved it into your ribs."

There was a silence, and Dean kept staring at the grace hanging around Castiel's neck. Sam opened his mouth to ask about it, and he was gone.

 **Dean and Sam**

"There's something fishy going on here," Bobby said. The stale hospital room was suffocating, and Bobby's new wheelchair the elephant in the room. "Where are the signs? The apocalypse? What's Lucifer doing? Demons are partying up a storm, but there aren't any plagues – "

"Lets be thankful, okay," Dean said, tired.

"Lets not be," Sam snapped back. "Lucifer is _out there,_ and if we don't see what he's doing that means he's planning something under our noses."

"Not to mention heaven," Bobby said. "They're angling to make you two the vessels of the generals, right?"

"It's not happening," Dean said, and Sam replied "Of course, Dean," with just a little irritation. Why did Dean keep saying that like it was a question?

Sam listened as Dean spouted about how they were going to win, _not_ angels or demons or a great battle that would roast the planet alive. But as soon as Dean left the hospital room, Sam followed.

"We could find the colt," Sam was saying, "We could use one of the bullets on Lucifer –"

"What difference would it make?" Dean said, attitude all defeat. "I said that for Bobby's benefit, but you know the truth. We're done for."

Dean was the picture of defeat, walking around the car, and Sam couldn't deal with this any longer. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

"I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. But I just can't keep pretending that everything's all right. Because it's not. And it's never going to be. You chose a demon over your own brother— "

"Have you ever bothered to look at it from my point of view?" Sam interrupted, and Dean's face changed to anger. "I would give anything to take it all back, because it _let Lucifer out,_ but what if it didn't? Then we'd be successful, and Lilith would be dead. There's a ton I would take back, things you don't know about Dean, but it's not like I was being evil, doing this for fun."

Dean's face morphed. "I can't believe this, you _let Lucifer out_ , how are we still having this argument? Your eyes were black, Sam."

"This line of reasoning," Sam exclaimed. "It's preposterous. It's evil because it exists in me? Then you should put me down now, Dean."

"That's not what I – "

"I know! That's the whole point! Condemn me for my _actions_ , Dean, not because I took advantage of something physical in me."

"You chose Ruby over me," Dean all but snarled.

"I thought it was the right way to save the world!" Sam said. "I know, I _know_ that doesn't fix anything, God knows, but it's not like I just abandoned you for no reason!"

"Like you did for Stanford?" The words were out of Dean's mouth before he could temper them.

All of Sam's fight drained away. "Dean, that wasn't about you," he said quietly.

Dean pressed his lips together. "You keep leaving me," his voice said, strangely empty.

"It's not like that," Sam implored. They had never spoken about why he left, the final fight turning into distance, then Dad went missing, then Jessica died, and it kept getting pushed back until it never happened.

"What is it like, huh!?" Dean shouted, loud temper filling the dead hospital parking lot.

"I disagreed with Dad!" Sam yelled back. "I thought there was more to life than this! I just wanted a choice! It was him who said _stay_ gone, I _know_ you remember."

" _If you're going, then stay gone," John's voice thundred in the dingy motel room. Sam never wanted to stay gone, but he didn't want to stay around a father who so readily issued ultimatums to his only living family._

 _Sam left out the open door, and immediately his heart cracked for what he had lost._

"God damnit I know, Sam, but _you're_ the one who left and _you're_ the one who chose Ruby –"

Sam brought his fist down, almost on the Impala, but stilled himself just in time. No level of anger justified taking it out on their home.

"I didn't choose Ruby over you in the ways that _mattered_ , Dean," Sam barked after a pause. "I tactically believed Ruby's plan to save the world was better than yours. You're still the one I've looked up to since I was born, dude, how could you not see that."

"You did a lot of bad things over the last year," Dean said, changing tack, defending his anger, burning hot inside his chest. He didn't want to forgive Sam because they made a life doing what's _right_ , damnit, and they can't make excuses.

"Yeah," Sam said, mouth dry. "I've got a lot of making up to do. But Dean, you do too."

Dean hung his head. _Not in the same ways_.

He wanted to remain angry, remain pissed, Sam let Satan himself out of hell and unleashed him upon the world. But Dean knew that Zachariah played him, and Ruby played Sam, and Azazel played Sam too, and his Dad played both of them, and now they were the chosen vessels for Good and Evil like some sort of cosmic joke. Where was the _right_ in that?

The only other person in this with him was Sam, and he couldn't stay mad at Sam and stay alive in this complete shitstorm at the same time.

"I'm angry," is what Dean said. This time, he meant at more than just Sam.

"I am too," Sam said, and meant the same thing.

Weeks passed, and not a peep. No horsemen, no plagues, nothing more than demons rampaging the earth, possessions spiking from 3 in 2006 to 24 in 2007 to 50 in 2008 to clear over 300 and it was only halfway through 2009.

Demon possessions on an unprecedented scale was bad, but Revelations made it seem like there would be a lot worse.

"Cas isn't picking up, either," Dean said dryly for the fifteenth time. "We're completely on our own."

"Other hunters are taking out the demons, that's good," Bobby supplied, but Dean waved him off.

"I meant on the intel."

"Cas can't ignore us forever," Sam said. "Something's gonna happen, eventually. He's probably preoccupied with that quest of his to find God." Sam had his own set of thirty thousand papers before him, trying to put together a picture of the apocalypse.

"I'm more worried about the angels," Bobby said. "Lucifer's probably working up to the great plagues, but where are the angels that are supposed to be stopping him?"

Dean spread his hands. _I don't know jack shit_ , his posture said. None of them did.

The radio silence continued, and Dean couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm tired of waiting around for a disaster to happen, it's been two weeks. Sam, lets get out on the road and go kill some fuglys, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "We can take out some of these demons while we're at it, with how many there are there's probably even one close."

"You boys have fun," Bobby said from his wheelchair, whiskey in his lap. Sam tried not to notice how much Bobby was putting away, tried not to ask him about it. He doomed the world, and killed innocent people to drink tainted blood, he had no right to query a man about his alcohol.

"There's gotta be someone we can talk to," Sam said instead. "A… psychic, or angel, or hell, a demon that knows what's going on."

"We're hunting fuglys, we can ask around while we're at it," Dean said, already holding his duffel bag.

"Where are we going first?" Sam asked, thinking Dean already had a destination in mind.

"Demon possession three states over, all convenient like," Dean said. "You can get your questions ready in the car."

"What is Lucifer planning," Sam snarled, dousing the demon in holy water.

"I don't know, I don't know!" The demon screamed, head jerking away from the burning water.

"Tell us what you do know," Dean said while Sam continued.

"Demons are self-interested, so act in your self interest," Sam said, pulling out Ruby's knife. "If you don't give us what we want, your interests might not be served."

"If I tell you anything I'll be rotting forever," the demon spat. "Dead might be better. Besides, you wouldn't kill this lovely human I'm riding."

"They might already be dead," Dean said, ever so nicely. "Knowing demons, they probably are. And there are ways to check."

The demon swallowed. "All right, okay? Shit. Look, I really don't know anything, except – all the higher ups, they're upset. Lucifer's gone missing."

"We know that," Sam snarled. "Give us something we don't know."

"Lucifer hasn't been talking to anyone in hell, far as I know!" It pleaded. "Lucifer's just gone, there, please let me go now! I won't rat you out!"

"That's all?"

"I swear, _on Lucifer,_ that's all I know."

Dean began to read an exorcism over the demon, and it jerked, and screamed, "Don't send me back there!" but soon it was gone.

The meatsuit slumped over, dead. Sam regarded him sadly. A man, late thirties or early forties. Nice plaid shirt. Flannel. Probably a father, a husband.

"I hate it when they don't make it," Sam sad as he cut him free, laying him down, closing his eyes the final time.

This poor man, his family never finding closure, forever wondering who his brutal murderer was. An open case, forever. The first of many the apocalypse will take.

"I was out of place to be so angry at you," Dean said, almost out of nowhere.

"What?" Sam said, abruptly.

"Calling you darkside. You're always crying for the victims, you couldn't be darkside," he mumbled, almost ashamed of himself.

 _A girl, in the drunk, like a vampire, Sam drank her._

"Stuff you don't know," Sam mumbled, equally quietly.

"Do you want to share?" Dean asked, awkwardly, like he didn't know how. "Can't be worse than what I did in hell," he said, cracking a pathetic joke.

"That was different, you were trying to survive –"

"So were you, Sam," Dean insisted. "In a different way. You were trying to make sure we all did. People have murdered for far less."

Sam didn't know if Dean knew about the girl, but the way he said it, casually, made Sam think he just happened to choose the word murder.

"Lots of people died while I… learned…." Sam mumbled instead.

"Victims die all the time," Dean said, Sam's excuse playing out of Dean's mouth. "They probably wouldn't have made it anyway."

"That's exactly what Ruby said," Sam spat bitterly, cleaning up the crime scene, and Dean had no response.

They wiped away fingerprints and positioned evidence, quietly, pensively.

"You started the apocalypse, but I did too," Dean said quietly, a little later. "First seal, last seal, remember?"

Sam pressed his lips together. It crossed his mind, more than a few times, but with Dean forgiving him he couldn't find the heart to hold it against his older brother.

"We're both guilty," Dean insisted. He seemed strangely invested in this line of reasoning.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Sam pressed instead. "You were ready to kill me for days."

Dean continued with their tedious work, cleaning their fingerprints off of everything. "It's just," he laughed awkwardly, "The universe keeps fucking us, dude. If we don't have each other, what do we have?"

Sam had no answer. That's exactly what he thought. They both have done a lot of fucked up things, but even bigger forces played them, put them in those awful positions. And the hits never stopped coming.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "So Lucifer's just not around?" He said, all business.

"Looks like it," Dean said, all business too. "You think Michael's in town too?"

"We can't ask Cas," Sam said. "Even if he was answering our calls, he's not on heaven's VIP list anymore." Obviously, they had no other angels to ask.

Dean hummed. "I have an idea, but it's a dangerous one."

"You WHAT?" Bobby's voice thundered through the phone.

"Just for a little bit," Dean insisted. "Just say 'yes' long enough for him to come – "

"And then what, say "I take it back?"" Bobby yelled.

"Well, before he gets in my bones, but yeah," Dean said dryly.

"This is a terrible plan," Sam said from the other side of the motel room, watching Dean on the phone with Bobby.

He was right, it was terrible.

"So is Sam gonna do this for fun, too?" Bobby all but snarled.

"That's one too many archangels for me," Dean said. "No, the demon we interrogated said Lucifer wasn't around, wasn't speaking to anyone. It's like he isn't home." Harassing the archangel Michael is one thing, but harassing Satan is another.

Bobby's silence was loud on the other end of the phone. "Come do it in my shed, so when you die I don't gotta collect your bodies."

Dean figured that was as close to an 'okay, be safe' as Bobby would ever give.

"On our way," Dean said, snapping the phone shut.

"I can't believe we're dong this," Sam said. "This is –"

"So stupid, I know," Dean said, waving his hands. "But what are we gonna do, call Zachariah or someone else and wait for him to blow our legs off? Again?"

"We need to call Cas for backup," Sam insisted, standing, packing the car.

Dean groaned, and spoke out loud at large. "Dear Castiel, or whatever, I'm gonna say yes to Michael and see if he shows up. It'll be a great show. Please come make sure Sam isn't liquefied."

No response.

"I thought surely that would be enough to draw his attention," Sam remarked. Neither one of them said it. Where has Castiel gone?

Dean shrugged. "He'll show up," he said, feeling strangely assured.


	2. Chapter 2

"So what if Michael doesn't show up?" Bobby said, standing in the shed with the Winchester boys just a day later.

The shed was still covered in symbols from every religion, and Bobby decided to add the few for angels that they had learned since Castiel came crashing in a year ago. Bobby had unearthed every weapon they could muster, but it would still surely be inadequate for fending off an archangel.

"Then we know they're both conspicuously absent from their own party and that something is sideways," Dean, said for the record.

 _Man, this is a horrible idea_ , Bobby thought for the seventy-fifth time. Dread was pooling in his chest.

"And if he does?" Bobby asked.

"Then we can safely assume Lucifer is just tucked away, planning big things." _And we can get to finding out what they are._

"Is there a reason we can't just sit and wait for the world to fall apart, instead of egging it on like this?" Bobby inquired from his seated position. _It's gonna fall apart anyway, why speed up the process_? Went unsaid.

Sam sighed, the weary sigh of the guilty. "It's our mess."

Bobby grunted. Sam's anxiety spiked _; my mess_ , he must think.

Dean cleared his throat. "Oh Castiel, I am going to egg on your older brother now. If you could come watch the show…"

No response, again.

Dean tried to hide his disappointment, and cleared his throat. Now or never, he supposed.

"Michael, I don't want to watch Lucifer take over the world. Can we talk? I am at Bobby Singer's residence."

Nothing happened, and they all looked at each other. Dean tried again.

"I want to say yes, Michael, the archangel," Dean kept saying, feeling more and more ludicrous. The tension was mounting in everyone's gut, and instead of being relieved that Michael wasn't answering, they were just growing more concerned.

Did the man, angel, whatever, want more reverence? "May I have an audience?"

"He isn't coming," Castiel said, appearing before them suddenly. He appeared unhindered by the religious rites Bobby dug up.

Those two angel graces were hanging from his neck, still. Dean originally assumed he was returning them to fallen brothers, but suddenly he had a much more shrewd idea.

"Because they're in there, aren't they," Dean said, pointing.

Castiel gave him an appraising look.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Sam said, aghast. "Castiel, why do you have the archangel's graces?"

"And why have you been ignoring our calls?" Dean exclaimed.

"I had to keep these protected," Castiel said, selectively answering. "Very dangerous in the wrong hands."

"How did you come by them?" Bobby asked, suspicious, wheeling around in his chair.

"His search for God," Sam said. "It worked." _Quick thinking, geek boy_.

Castiel neither confirmed nor denied, and cleared his throat, for ceremony. "Lucifer and Michael haven't been with heaven or hell for some time. They have been lost."

"And no one noticed Michael missing?" Sam exclaimed. "Lucifer I get, he was supposed to be in a cage, but didn't you all notice Michael missing?"

"The chain of command is strict. Only a few people had access to Michael, and it would seem that they hushed up the knowledge, just as they did with God's absence. Perhaps he has not been missing for that long."

"Is every major hitter out of town?" Dean asked. "Who else is there even major to miss, Jesus?"

"I don't know what you'd consider _every major hitter_ ," Castiel replied dryly. "As far as I know, only those two figures are gone. The Father, Michael and Lucifer." Castiel hummed. "It's not outside of the realm of possibility that there are more missing."

"Is the Son just God in a vessel?" Sam asked, the question on his mind, since Castiel said 'The Father.'

"I believe the Son is a vessel God fashioned just for himself," Castiel said. "It was told to me that the Son was the human embodiment of God, just as it was you in Sunday School."

"Hunting kept us out of Sunday school," Dean snapped. "So the apocalypse is on but everyone is gone. What now?"

"Eventually, both sides will realize and begin their search for their leaders," Castiel informed him.

"Is that…" Dean pointed again. "….them?"

"No," Castiel said flatly. "This is their power. Their _selves_ are likely out there, as Anna was, unaware of who they are."

"We gotta find the archangels before either side does, in their human form," Bobby said, aghast. "How are we supposed to do that?"

Castiel gave Dean another piercing look, and was gone in a wingbeat.

"Wow, that was helpful," Dean drawled. "Thanks for the chat."

"That actually _was_ helpful," Sam insisted from where he stood. "At least when we're finding humans, or almost-humans, they can't smite us with a sideways glance."

"But now we gotta cook up some magic for finding fallen angels," Dean said dryly.

Bobby's face had exhaustion written all over it. _Damn that stupid chair,_ Dean thought.

"Well lets see what we can dig up," Bobby said, wheeling himself out of the shed. Dean considered helping, but anticipated that all that would happen would Bobby would tear his head off for it, and he was attached to it.

"Anna, can we talk?" Dean said awkwardly. "I'm at Bobby's –"

Anna appeared before them instantly, enraged. "Lucifer's cage is open," she growled.

"We know," Sam said, wincing visibly. Dean felt the shame in his chest, but managed to keep it off his face.

"You are his true vessel, and yet you are here," Anna said, her stance growing more aggressive by the second.

"How are you here?" Castiel said, suddenly present, angel grace conspicuously missing.

Dean decided to take the hint, and keep Anna out-of-the-know.

"You were taken to heaven," Castiel said.

"Betrayed, by _you_ ," She shot. "But I escaped once, I could do it again."

"Well Castiel isn't on heaven's team anymore, we're all on the same side," Dean called authoritatively. This situation was quickly escalating. Dean didn't know what Anna's problem was, but didn't like where this was going.

"Lets all work together here. Anna," Dean turned. "Do you have some way to find angels that have fallen? Like magic that can find their human form?"

Anna looked at him blankly. "Why would you want that?" she said, entirely nonplussed.

"Humor me," Dean said. "For the eventual destruction of both heaven and hell, I assure you."

Anna looked at Sam, fury crossing her features. "It would be a better use of our time to scatter his cells on the wind." Dean suddenly understood what her problem was.

"Do you know the magic or not," Sam snapped. Sam's fist tightened around the blade he was holding.

"No, I know of no such thing," Anna said, eerily empty. Her gaze landed on Sam, looking like she would attack.

"If you harm a hair on his head, you will find yourself in no small level of danger," Castiel threatened.

Dean wondered when the change of heart in Castiel occurred for Sam, but he wasn't questioning it. Probably when he fell, _fell for them_. Castiel used to be in favor of removing Sam from this earth, and suddenly Castiel was going to bat for him.

What Dean _was_ questioning was the sudden urge Anna had to annihilate Sam. What, the fact that Lucifer _might_ take Sam (even though he wouldn't) was enough to destroy Sam forever?

"He's not going to say yes, Anna," Dean assured, hoping vainly that it would calm her. "Neither of us are."

"Simple human assurance is not enough to ease my mind," She said harshly, drawing her sword.

Just as Dean's adrenaline spiked, something happened. Suddenly Castiel was behind her, his sword in her back, her mouth in an open scream as she died. The humans slammed their eyes shut until the piercing light faded.

"Jesus, Castiel!" Dean exclaimed. "Did God give you a powerup or something?"

"He did. I was reincarnated as a higher order angel, from Malakhim to Seraphim, first class." Castiel said smoothly. "A rank far outstripping Anael's."

Dean didn't know whether or not to feel touched at Castiel killing a 6000-year friend to save Sam, or alarmed.

Sam, however, clearly felt affected. "Castiel, thank you," he said uncertainly.

"She threatened your life, and I warned her that would not end in a pleasing way for her," Castiel intoned.

"You… nevermind," Dean shook his head. He wasn't questioning the change of heart. "Bobby, do you think that there is magic that can find them?"

"I know of no such magic, except that which uses the grace itself," Castiel said.

"Great, you have that!" Dean exclaimed. "Perfect. Hand it over."

"But we cannot," Castiel said. "To do so would… 'use it up,' per se, and we cannot risk that."

"Surely we can use up _Lucifer,_ "Sam said. "Any opportunity to take Satan's power is one we should take?"

"Think of the implications of their absence," Castiel insisted. "If they have been gone for long enough, than Lucifer is not guilty for any of the things he is charged of."

Sam and Dean's eyes opened wide. Bobby, however, was not impressed.

"Then how's hell here? The apocalypse?" Bobby challenged.

"I know not the answers, I only know that Lucifer had to go missing _before_ he was sealed, because nothing can escape from that cage. Before that cage was sealed, I was but a child, and hell had only started to form. Lucifer had already fallen to earth, but he had not been sealed away."

The three humans were struck again with the feeling that this was far, _far_ above their pay grade. "What do you remember?" Bobby asked.

Castiel grimaced. "My memories are dim. I remember Lucifer's willingness to stand up to our father, I found… frightening. And then one day, he and his supporters left to earth, abandoning our Father and our purpose for them. Hell, demons, were all known _after_ Lucifer was supposedly sealed. Lucifer may have made the first demon, he may not have, but I don't know anymore."

Castiel turned his head away. "This is what I find so difficult about free will. Suddenly, the choices, whether to give someone a chance, or not, they are yours to make."

"We'll give Lucifer a chance to speak for himself," Sam found himself saying. He was part demon, reviled by hunter and monster alike, abandoning his father and doing _awful_ things in the name of what was right. Everyone deserved that chance, even Lucifer. _What a ridiculous sounding thought_ , Sam thought. _Even Lucifer deserves a chance._

"If he is Satan, he'll only spread lies," Bobby said harshly. "Father of lies, remember?"

Dean pursed his lips. "Lucifer might really be framed?"

Castiel looked back at the three men. "All I know is that Lucifer and Michael are both missing, and not a single human has died that can be tied back to either of them personally."

"What do you think?" Dean pressed. "I mean, you knew the guys."

"Knew _of_ ," Castiel corrected. He frowned. "My memories are too hazy to come up with a conclusion, but… I think, in the spirit of free will, they should both be given a chance."

 _Both_. Dean liked that. Michael abandoned humans and the planet to be roasted by demons and whatever else nasty is happening, he should own up. He doesn't have Lucifer's bad rap, but he did have Lucifer's questionable motivations.

"But without that grace we will never find them," Bobby said. "Right, Castiel?"

Castiel stood silently, and seemed to be coming to some sort of decision.

"What?" Dean queried. They looked on, expectantly.

Castiel ventured an answer. "Yes, you will, I think."

"How?" Dean asked, but in a wingbeat, Castiel was gone.

"What an ass," Dean said dryly. "His poor troop, they've had to deal with this thousands of years."

"What does that even mean, as an answer?" Sam asked.

"I'm starting to think he found God and had a good chat," Bobby said. "Suddenly a power-boosted angel, with the two big bads' grace around his neck, giving answers that are even _more_ vague than usual?"

"And there's something they're hiding," Dean growled. "God and his buddies, always hiding shit. When I die and find out what they're hiding, it better be good."

"At this rate we're gonna find out before then," Sam said dryly. "So do we want to struggle on and trust Cas, or try and wring it out of him?"

"It's not distrustful to wring it out of him," Dean sulked. "It's not like we can capture and interrogate him."

"We can corner him," Bobby said. "The guy is a thousands' year old celestial being, sure, but he didn't spend that time socializing. I bet if we ask the right questions the right way, we can get him to spill whatever it is."

"Or we could just ask him!" Dean exclaimed. "Hey Cas, what's the big secret you and God are keeping?"

"It wouldn't be a secret then, would it," Sam said dryly. Dean made a face; he just didn't want to believe Cas was hiding something.

Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. "Whatever, it's fine, without magic, we're just somehow gonna find the human souls of the archangels Michael and Lucifer. It's fine."

He tipped his head back, groaning. "Remember when a bench hitter demon was the scariest thing we'd ever hunted?" He asked, lamely.

"Cut it with the pity party," Bobby said, wheeling away. "Hunting has gotten harsher, no thanks to you two," he grumbled. Sam and Dean knew that by _you two_ , he meant _the great apocalypse conspiracy theory that is following you_.

And wasn't that a kicker, Sam thought. His whole life, poisoned by Azazel, raised to be leader of demons, chosen vessel to the archangel Lucifer, all one giant play. Friends with demons and stalked by angels. Was any of it ever real?

Looking at Dean, he saw an older brother who bandaged up his scraped knees and threatened people who called him a nerd. _That_ , Sam knew _, that was real_.

"The falling of the archangels Michael and Lucifer would cause some pretty big astrological signs, wouldn't it?" Sam asked. Books were splayed out in front of the three of them, what felt like Bobby's entire library on the floor in front of them as they poured over information in vain. "Shooting stars, comets, hell, gigantic explosions?"

"I mean, yeah," Bobby said, "But how would that help us find the humans they're in now?"

"The humans they _are_ ," Dean corrected. "Anna wasn't 'in' anyone, she _was_ someone."

"Maybe when they reincarnated, there was like shooting stars or something," Sam guessed.

"There would be dozens or hundreds over the years, then, and that's too much to search through," Bobby said. "Not to mention all of the perfectly natural space stuff."

"Anna could hear angels," Dean said. "Maybe their human forms will be having the same problem?"

"They could be smarter than Anna, and not talking about it, so there'd be no way to know."

"Wouldn't they have childhood amnesia, then, or weird issues about their Dad?"

"Again, they'd be –"

"Geez, Bobby!" Dean exclaimed, standing up. "What _are_ we supposed to look for, then?"

Sam was silent. "Prophecies," he said quietly, with dawning realization. "It's the apocalypse, and these two archangels are mentioned extensively in the apocrypha. If we know where they _will_ be, we might be able to find out where they are."

"Good, a plan," Dean sighed. "We need a prophecy, let's call our local prophet."

Dean flipped open his phone, and dialed on speaker. Chuck picked up (Chuck never ignored a call from _them_ ), and quickly explained the situation.

"I haven't seen anything," Chuck said.

"What do you mean, you haven't seen anything?" Dean almost threatened. He was so frustrated, and they were almost out of options.

"I swear, I haven't seen anything about this," Chuck insisted. "Just both of you, searching."

"Well, you see where we search next, right?" Sam insisted. "Give us a lead, or tell us where not to waste your time."

"If I tell you, you don't do it, and then I never see it, so I can't tell you not to do it," Chuck rambled. "Remember Lilith? Besides, nothing I saw would even help you anyways."

"Maybe there's some magic that can help us find angels on earth," Dean said. "In any form. Fallen or not, grace or not. Any angel that we can wring some information out of."

"I bet Cas would know something about that," Chuck said.

"How do you know he's not dead? Don't say it, prophet, I know," Dean remarked, sighed again.

"Cas, got a second for a question?"

Nothing, as anticipated.

"Is he trying to, like, lead us to the answer without giving it to us?" Sam snarked, at the open air. "Because this is ridiculous."

"Bobby probably has it somewhere in these magic books of his," Dean groaned. "Thanks anyways, Chuck," he said as he hung up.

"So?" Bobby asked.

"Spell to find any angel on earth, here we go," Sam groaned, flipping open another book.

"Got it!" Sam exclaimed. "Naturally, all of the ingredients are weird and rare, but nothing requiring an angel's grace. Perfectly doable."

Bobby eyed the ingredients list. "Has to be done on the freaking solar equinox, naturally. Luckily that's only 3 or so months out, enough time to get my hands on 'the hair of one touched by god,' or whatever that means."

"Probably just someone who has had a miracle happen to them," Sam said. "That'll be easy enough to verify. Just…"

Dean tuned out of the technical ins and outs of the spell. There was something weighing on his mind about this whole affair.

"What are we doing to do when we find them?" Dean said. Sam and Bobby fell silent, obviously considering this question themselves at length.

"We can't restore them their power, or they'll get started with the apocalypse," Bobby said.

"Or maybe, they're innocent, we restore their power, and they put everything right!" Sam insisted. "But how do we find out?"

"Pamela got Anna to access her memories," Dean said, "But we don't have Pamela anymore, do we," Dean said sadly. _How many more people will die because of these dickheads?_

"It doesn't take the state's best psychic to hypnotize someone," Sam said. "And a powerless angel isn't going to blind anyone. We just need _someone_ with psychic power."

"We could call up Missouri," Dean replied. "She's always had pity for our plight, or whatever."

"We could just do it ourselves," Bobby said. "I let you all call Pamela because we didn't know what we were fucking with, with Anna, but we know the score here. Awaken a fallen angel's memories. I could probably do that myself."

"You sure?" Sam queried, uncertain.

"No," Bobby said, "But I'd rather do that than invite a stranger into this shitstorm."

"Okay, find the angels, awaken their memories," Sam said. "Then ask them what the hell is going on."

"They could always lie," Dean said.

"Yeah, but they'd have to lie together," Bobby said. "We could separate them like cops do and ask them to spit out their stories. If they fit together, it's more likely it's true."

"They also won't know about Cas," Sam added. "Cas can verify everything they say."

"Would Cas be willing to knife them if they're the bad guys?" Dean wondered. "They are his brothers."

"Yeah, but he fell for us," Sam said. "Fell for free will. Plus, Cas flat out admitted that he didn't know them."

"He'll have to," Bobby said. "If we do it ourselves, they'll reincarnate as humans again."

"This is getting ahead of ourselves," Sam interrupted. "This spell isn't finding _them_ , it's just finding some angel that we can wring answers out of. We'll come up with trial questions later."

"Damn straight," Dean said. He had a gnawing sense of dread in his stomach. Something told him he wouldn't like where this road leads. Little did he know, Sam was feeling the exact same thing.

"…révéler l'ange le plus proche!" Sam exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the sigil.

Angelic magic seemed to be all blood and sigils, this one requiring a variety of things to be mixed with the blood of the seeker, painted on the floor.

They were hoping it would summon the angel right to them, since that would save them some time. They didn't put much anti-angel magic down, dubious that it would have an effect.

It didn't matter, though, since two names burned into the carpet.

 _Michael_

 _Lucifer_

"Something must be wrong," Sam said. "Or they really are the closest angels, and I find it difficult to believe that would just happen to be the case."

Bobby was silent, looking at the floor.

"God damnit," Dean groaned. "I guess it's back to the books. I hate the books."

"We know you do, Dean," Sam laughed.

"You know what sucks about the apocalypse? There's way more books than usual. Normal hunting is just 'what is it,' 'how do we kill it?' Dad's journal says how, and then we do."

Suddenly, Bobby looked up at the two of them.

"I'll be right back," Bobby said, and then wheeled right out to the back.

"Okay?" Dean said. "Wonder what's crawled up his ass."

"Disability," Sam replied quietly.

Disability was not, as it was, 'what crawled up Bobby's ass.'

"Cas! You sneaky bastard!" Bobby said loudly as soon as he got enough distance. "They're the angels, aren't they!"

"Yes," Castiel said, appearing suddenly as usual.

"Well," Bobby said. He was stunned, not reacting to the news. "At least we know they won't kill us all," Bobby heard himself say.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Castiel replied. "As soon as they have their memories back, they may decide to kill each other, and everyone else. We know not what their history is."

"Well then they're not getting their memories back," Bobby said forcefully. _I'm not losing my sons to some shitty archangels,_ he snarled in his mind. Even if his sons were those archangels. This was above his pay grade.

"How long can you keep that up?" Castiel pressed, a little aggressive. "Both sides will notice their missing leaders. They, just as you, will come to this conclusion. They will hunt them down, and their enemies will torture them until they remember. Best case scenario, Dean is taken hostage by heaven and Sam by hell, until they remember. They were gone the moment the apocalypse started."

Bobby was silent. "Why didn't you tell them?" he asked, quietly. _Why didn't you tell us_.

"They fell for a reason," Castiel said. "I feared their reaction if their power or memories were forced on them against their will. Also, the Father commanded me not to."

"Why?"

"I know not."

"This damn God," Bobby mumbled. "Okay, what does The Father want me to do?" He said, with no small amount of sarcasm.

"They must accept their identities themselves."

"But they have to discover it to accept it," Bobby said.

"They have everything they need to discover it, just as you did," Castiel said.

"Well, they seem a little resistant," Bobby found himself saying. "Back there, they thought the spell was just wonky."

"I will wait as long as it takes," Castiel said in another non-answer.

"Balls," Bobby groaned. "Damnit Cas, I don't want to lose my sons."

"You may not," Castiel said. Then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

"Back to square one," Dean groaned. "Great."

Bobby was utterly at a loss. He couldn't help staring at the two boys, thinking _the archangels Michael and Lucifer are standing in my house._

"What is wrong with you?" Dean asked, looking at Bobby strangely. "You disappear to the backyard, in a wheelchair, and come back in like you've seen the devil himself. Crap, that's not a good saying anymore, is it," he mused.

 _And they don't even know who they are._

 _Michael,_ Bobby thought, staring at Dean's face. _The freaking archangel Michael in human form. I wiped his butt when he was 5._

Sam was looking at Bobby with concern, too. Bobby supposed he better say something. He'd been through a lot, faced a lot of shit, but this really takes the cake. The two most powerful archangels, standing in his living room.

"Just frustrated we don't have an answer, is all," Bobby said in a strange voice.

 _Sam is Lucifer and Sam has demon's blood so Lucifer has demon's blood,_ Bobby thought. _Jesus I hope Lucifer isn't evil._ Although Bobby knew it to be overwhelmingly likely. _Balls._

Fuck whatever Castiel said, they couldn't find out. He wouldn't watch Sam burn the world, and he wouldn't watch Dean kill him to try and stop him. _Michael, Lucifer, whatever, these were his sons._

"Are we sure we want to do this?" Bobby asked. "Maybe it would be better to let them stay lost. The moment we get our hands on them, someone else will find us, and it'll all fall apart."

"That's fair," Sam said, "But I don't think that's what will happen. It might take heaven or hell longer to find them, sure, but they'll get found."

"They have a lot more power than us, too," Dean said. "They only reason they haven't been found already is because of the bureaucracy. Hah, heaven and hell are bloated bureaucracies," Dean laughed.

Bobby sighed. He couldn't lead them away from the answer forever. Hell, he probably couldn't keep them away from the answer for three weeks. They were determined fuckers when they wanted to be. Bobby's only saving grace was their innate instinct to hide the answer from themselves.

 _Why they both fell must have been bad_ , Bobby thought, _if they're hiding the truth from themselves_. Big thing to hide.

"So, what now?" Bobby asked. "If you're still insisting on doing this."

 _They've known God longer than creation has existed._

Sam sighed, and looked around. "Back to square one, I guess."

"Another spell," Dean grumbled. "Maybe this time it won't fuck up the living room floor."

Bobby cursed inwardly. He couldn't just willy-nilly tamper with spells, lest he end up a smear on the floor and these two dead and reincarnated into other, stupider people. _Hard to get stupider than Sam and Dean Winchester, though_ , Bobby groaned.

"I'm not helping you two find your spell," Bobby ground out. "I think this is fool's work. But if you insist on doing this, please use my house and let me know when you plan to summon the all-powerful angels." Bobby needed them where he could keep an eye on them.

Sam and Dean looked hurt, betrayed. Bobby had never abandoned them, not even if he thought the plan was foolish. But Bobby couldn't, _couldn't_ help them with this. He knew they thought they were saving the world, but they were just killing themselves. Literally.

"Thanks for letting us use your house and shed, at least," Sam said. "It's hard to keep a decent credit card scam up when we're wrapped up in all this other shit."

"Yeah," Dean said, turning away.

Bobby wished he could tell them, so he could tell them to _stop_ and _stay away._

"I need you around to run errands for me," he quipped. Bobby wheeled to his computer, pretending to busy himself with something else. All he did was continue to watch the boys out of the corner of his eye, pull all the promising books back out _again_.

 _These two were the most powerful creations of God, and they gave it all up._ Although, from what Bobby had heard of God, that sounded about right. Screw God.

Time passed far too quick at the Singer household for Bobby's liking. Each day was tense and stressful, watching Sam and Dean (because _those_ were their names) sifting through everything they could find to locate the missing leaders.

Bobby was thankful, but he knew it would all fall apart eventually. They had no way of knowing, but Bobby would bet that Zachariah and whatever nightmare hell had for a leader after Lilith had both wizened up to the absence of their higher powers by now.

Bobby feared the day that the armies of heaven or hell stormed this household, looking to take them away. And all he could do was sit here and prepare alone, in private.

"Dean, I think we should throw in the towel on this one," Sam said, after about a month or two of searching. Bobby let out a gigantic sigh of relief, internally.

"What else are we gonna do?" Dean asked.

"Well, there are a bunch of demons and angels out running around, killing people," Sam said. "It might better serve us to get out there, and make sure no one else dies."

"What about when Michael or Lucifer show up?" Dean insisted. "And want to smite us?"

"Castiel is guarding their graces, remember?" Sam replied. "Even if the angels harass him into giving Michael's back, at least he's the good guy. Lucifer will never get his. Besides Dean, we've been over this a thousand times. I don't think there's anything we can do."

"Hell and heaven have probably gotten new leaders by now, anyhow," Bobby said. "They want this apocalypse, bad."

Dean heaved a sigh. "Yeah, you're right. Bobby, you've been keeping up with everything else – where are some fuglys we can kill?"

At that moment, Castiel appeared suddenly at Bobby's, square in the kitchen.

"Ah, that's convenient," Dean said. "Cas, d'you –"

"Both sides have realized the truth," Castiel said. Those angel graces were still around his neck. He turned square to Bobby, and said "They both ready to storm this house."

"They know where I live?" Said Bobby, shocked.

"I don't know how, probably some sort of spell they cast on you, or they have been tailing you. But you all need to leave, with me. Now."

"Shit, can't we take the car?" Dean insisted. "That has all my crap in it."

"I can bring the car," Castiel said. "Run to it," he said, already walking out the door.

Sam, Dean and Bobby followed him outside, and were greeted immediately by a demon.

"Going somewhere?" It asked, eyes empty and black.

Castiel immediately grabbed Sam and Dean, and they felt the tugging in their gut as Cas took flight. But they were falling through the air a second later, landing roughly on the scrapyard dirt.

Cas and the demon were on the ground several yards over, locked in a fight.

More demons suddenly appeared in the yard, and Dean, Sam and Bobby knew there was no time to run back into the protected house. Sam and Dean readied for a fight, pulling out angel blades.

"I don't think so," Zachariah yelled, appearing suddenly, flanked by two angels they did not know. "Scum like you will not get your hands on Michael, and you will not recover your leader."

Bobby's stomach sank. There was no way they were going to make it out of this one.

"I brought their graces just for this," Castiel said, lowly, now next to Bobby, where only he could hear. "When they realize what's going on, they will need that power to escape."

"Sam and Dean can take demons, even angels, without no damn power up," Bobby said roughly, knowing that wasn't true. Not this many.

Sam and Dean were behind the angels, and the demons launched a ferocious attack. But within seconds, Zachariah and his pals had smited every demon and their hosts fell to the ground, passed out.

Zachariah turned to Sam and Dean, eyes alive.

"We have found you, at last," he said. "You have hidden for millennia, but we have found you." He was staring square at the brothers.

"What?" Dean said, confused as hell. "You speaking to me?"

"Both of you," Zachariah hissed.

"Hidden for millennia? I'm 26," Sam spat. "We have no idea what you're talking about."

Zachariah made a face, and the other angels started to approach on the sides. "You should be jailed for your crimes, both of you, but unfortunately the prophecies are clear. You were God's chosen, but not even God's chosen get spared from justice. You need to be free, and you need to fight."

Sam's face morphed, from confusion to pure dread.

"What?" Dean asked, turning to Sam. The angels were approaching, and Sam was just standing there.

"It's us," Sam said, voice empty.

"What?" Dean asked, again, stomach sinking rapidly.

Sam shook his head, unwilling to say more.

"You are Michael and Lucifer," Castiel said, walking into the battle circle, Bobby sitting a ways behind.

Dean's mouth fell open. "No," He said, a reflex.

"Yes," Zachariah insisted. "And if you don't come back to heaven peacefully, we'll bring you by force. We know we can, since you…" he made a disgusted face, "…crippled yourself."

"You have lost all sense of respect," Castiel snapped at Zachariah. "You know who you speak to?"

"I speak to a traitor, whatever his rank," Zachariah sneered at Castiel.

"This can't be happening," Dean said, backing up. Zachariah's flunkies were looking between Dean, with awe, and Sam, with disgust.

"Well, at least we know they won't be on board with the apocalypse," Sam said, a little hysterically.

"We do not, because once your memories are restored, your minds may change," Castiel said, turning to them. "There is much more you do not remember than what you do."

"Well _I remember_ that we shouldn't French fry humanity just because some dusty book says so!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm pretty sure I won't forget that!"

"It's for the greater good, like I said before," Zachariah said. "The angels can finally live on the earth, at peace. All of humanity will know their peace in heaven, too."

Sam and Dean turned to Bobby. Etched on his face were lines of dread as he watched the scene unfold. "I don't want to lose you boys," he said, voice full of grief.

"We're still us," Sam said, for himself and for Bobby. "We always will be."

"Do not promise what you cannot deliver," Castiel said, a little sharply.

Zachariah was staring at their graces around his neck. "Why haven't you restored Michael yet, Castiel?" He wondered.

"How did I get resurrected?" Castiel replied. "There are many questions that need answers," he said, turning his piercing gaze back to the brothers.

"Well, what is it, then?" Zachariah said. "Going to come with us in peace, or not?"

"My answer is the same as always," Dean spat. "Go to hell."

Zachariah raised his blade, and Castiel crushed the bottles in his fist.

Everyone watched in horror as the white mist traveled towards the brothers. Sam and Dean backed up, sending each other panicked glances.

"What have you done!" Zachariah screamed. "You have restored Lucifer!"

"I have stopped your apocalypse!" Castiel yelled back.

Sam's hand found Dean's. At the last minute, they looked at each other. They didn't need to speak.

 _I don't want to lose you_ , their eyes said.

Suddenly, everything was engulfed in white.

Michael blinked, blinked human eyes. His six wings were unfurled behind him, white and molten gold. They shone against the sunlight, and Michael immediately appreciated the warmth.

Sam was bent over beside him, Lucifer, six silver-white wings unfurling. He was on all fours, and Michael realized he was too. Hands pressed into the dirt, feeling a thousand microbes beneath his hands.

 _Earth is a lot better than heaven,_ Michael thought to himself.

Sam, Lucifer, looked up at him. He could see Sam's face, Lucifer's face, the same thing, one person staring right back at him. Michael, Dean, he felt his chest fill up with a foreign emotion, yet one he knew so well.

"I've missed you," he breathed.

Michael heard an annoying buzzing in his head, the voices of a thousand angels in unison. _I guess I've been restored to heaven_ , _too_ , he thought. _Anna wasn't._ Anael, he remembered.

That buzzing turned to a distinct voice when he looked up at Zachariah, speaking to him. Zachariah was always committed to Father and The Mission. They all were.

"Leave us," Michael threatened, and he knew he could deliver on that threat immediately.

The angels were gone, and he tuned out the buzzing in his ears. He got onto his feet, surprisingly unsteady.

"I remember bodies being difficult when I took this vessel," Castiel said. Was he talking to him or Bobby?

Sam was on his feet too, unsteady. Michael had the instinct to call him _Sam,_ seeing that mop of brown hair and those puppy dog eyes that asked him for too many toys as a child.

"Dean," he said, and he figured Lucifer had the same instinct. "Michael." They stared at each other for a long moment.

Why he fell was fresh on his mind. He fell, and Lucifer must have fallen too, and they'd lived a thousand lifetimes together, but this was the first time they knew it.

"Why did you fall?" Lucifer asked, eyes all betrayal.

"Father left," Michael said. But that wasn't the real reason, not really. "I missed you. You were right."

"I was beginning to think you were," Lucifer said. "When I watched them turn into demons, I thought I should have just stayed in heaven after all."

"Uh," Bobby's voice sounded from the side, and they turned.

"I hate to interrupt, I really do," Bobby said, slowly, "But I want to ask… is the apocalypse still on, or not?"

"Jesus, no," Dean exclaimed. "Didn't I just say five minutes ago "I remember it's wrong to French fry humanity?""

"Yeah, and for the record I didn't create demons or 'tempt humanity into sin,'" Sam joined in. "You did that all yourselves," he said, an edge of accusation in his voice. The hurt tone of voice was so _Sam._

Bobby nodded, a little distantly. "Sam? Dean?"

Sam laughed, a little hysterically. "Yeah, it's us."

"Except now we're a million other people too, and apparently also archangels," Dean said, the same hysterical edge.

"I can see that," Castiel observed dryly. _He can see the wings,_ Michael's brain supplied uselessly.

"Thoughts are weird, aren't they?" Michael said to Castiel, still with that edge of hysteria, those hormones in his body. "Little electromagnetic pulses to convey what the spirit already knows."

"You'll get used to it," Castiel assured. "They're useful."

Dean wondered how he ever thought Cas wasn't expressive. He could see his pose, his stance, his wings shuffling slightly. Castiel was happy, for some reason.

"Happy we aren't gonna French fry the planet, are you?" Sam snapped at Cas. Sam's wings were flared behind him, irritated.

"Yes, actually," Castiel agreed. "I'm also happy Sam and Dean weren't obliterated. I like both of you."

"I thought you just wanted to kill Sam because of the demon blood," Dean remarked.

"Not anymore, now that magic angel powers have wiped it out," Sam snarked again. Something about Castiel's reaction was pissing Lucifer off.

"I was following orders, Lucifer –"

"You were trying to kill an innocent man!" Lucifer exclaimed. "God killing innocent men is why I fell –"

"He was just following orders! They all were!" Michael interrupted. "That's why I fell. They were all following crap orders for Father's plan when Father wasn't even there."

Sam's eyes turned sad. "Do you know where he went?"

"No clue, but I'll bet anything he was John," Michael speculated. "The whole situation has too much symmetry."

Bobby seemed to have pulled himself together, recovering from the shock. "You're telling me John Winchester is God?"

"I'd bet my grace," Michael added. "Not that I value it all that much."

Castiel's eyes flew open at that.

"What? That shouldn't shock you," Michael added. "I tore it out, for chrissake."

"I'm glad you did," Lucifer said. "I'm glad I did." His eyes softened considerably. "These last 1000 years have been kind."

Michael's heart softened at that. Yes, they had. "But it looks like the fun is over. Father and us left and apparently creation went to shit."

"I have to admit, there's some level of satisfaction knowing it wasn't supposed to be this way," Bobby said. "Christians have jumped through a lot of hoops to explain why it is."

"I wouldn't go that far," Lucifer grumbled. "I'll bet this was his plan all along."

"Maybe when the humans fell he got some magic amnesia of his own," Michael said. "Would be a family pattern."

"No, holy books show a clear pattern of interference," Bobby said. "I doubt it. Can we go inside? I'm freezing my ass off."

Michael turned his attention to this body, and realized that it was very cold. "Yeah, yeah, sorry, didn't notice."

"Didn't notice forty degree weather," Bobby grumbled, wheeling inside.

Walking was just as unsteady a matter as standing. Lucifer and he both had to flap their wings in an embarrassing way to maintain balance, although from a human's point of view they probably looked more coordinated than normal.

"So…." Bobby heaved. "What now?"

"You're taking this well," Sam remarked.

"I told him months ago," Castiel said.

Bobby pressed his mouth into a thin line.

"And you didn't tell us!" Dean exclaimed, instantly feeling betrayed.

"Would you have wanted told?" Sam cut in. "Wouldn't you rather go back to the way it was?"

Michael sat on that. Yes, because he and Lucifer were together as a family, happy. But ultimately, no.

"No, because being here properly next to you, alive and well, is a hell of a lot better than the shadow of being together that we had before."

Lucifer looked a little touched at the notion.

"You're not like other angels," Bobby remarked as well. "Hell, that's more emotional than even Dean would get."

"Yeah, well, like Castiel said, humanity changes you," Michael mumbled. "And hey, Dean, right here."

Bobby gave him an eye.

"You can just stick with Sam and Dean," Lucifer said. "I like those names better anyways," he said quietly. His shaggy hair was in his face.

"Well then, _Sam and Dean,_ what are you doing to do about this apocalypse?" Bobby drawled.

"Call it off?" Dean suggested.

"I doubt it," Castiel said. "Heaven and hell appear dedicated to the plan, if Zachariah's behavior is any indication."

"You know, there was a day when all angels obeyed my word," Michael said, remembering the times before he fell. He was the leader of heaven's vast armies. "To disobey me would be unthinkable," he said, drawing himself up instinctively, wings flaring behind him.

It must have been intimidating, because Bobby didn't even bother to hide his fear (or maybe Dean could see it better now), and Castiel turned his wings and head down in supplication.

Lucifer turned to him, eyebrow raised. _Really?_

"I don't think that this is that day anymore," Castiel said uncertainly. He'd gone from Cas, Dean's best friend to Castiel, subservient angel in an instant.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," Dean said, waving his hand. "Instinct. Castiel, don't do that. Forget it."

Cas looked up, and ruffled his wings. Bobby looked away, looked as if he was praying to an absent God asking 'what the hell am I supposed to do with these two.'

"Don't worry, I'll never obey you," Lucifer said lightly.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Michael said. "Okay, okay, they won't listen. Maybe some will, but we can't count on it."

"You could just tell them the… 'party is off,' as it were, and see who listens," Castiel said. "Even now you can call to your brothers."

"I don't think I really have that option," Lucifer said, downcast. "Someone spread a rumor while I was gone that I started all this, and they won't believe me."

"Yeah, that's the real question here," Bobby said. "What can you do about hell?"

Lucifer drew himself up to defend, and Bobby said "No, no, I know you didn't do it. I'd like some more clarification later on how exactly all this _did_ happen, but we're here. But if they're all obeying you, you might as well use it. Can you, like… turn hell off? Tell the demons to scatter?"

"Not likely," Lucifer admitted. "Of course, I'll give it a shot, but I think they will ultimately answer only to their sin."

"What if you, like, pretended to be one of them?" Bobby said. "Manipulate them into doing less or making less deals?"

"I want to be restored to heaven one day," Lucifer said, almost defensively. "That won't happen if I 'walk among the romans,' as it were."

"Okay," Bobby said, backing off.

"Bobby, we aren't going to smite you," Sam said, almost with exhaustion. "You don't need to walk on glass."

"I'm not totally sure of you two's mental stability yet," Bobby said instead. "One moment he's Dean, the next he's the archangel Michael come to demand obedience from us all."

"This is a bit of a new situation for us," Michael defended, unreasonably angry. _I suppose this is what Bobby was talking about_. "Look, I'm just… the last time I had grace, my word was law. This sort of disobedience wouldn't have gone unpunished." _It shouldn't go unpunished._

"You say you're Dean?" Bobby challenged. "Don't think about this like they're disobedient angels, or whatever you're used to. Be Dean. Think of this like a hunt."

Dean nodded. He could do that. "Hunts seem a lot easier when I have magic superpowers."

"Not that you know how to use them," Lucifer said dryly, amused. "This is your first time in a body."

"Don't distract me," Dean quipped back. "Hunt. Monster: heaven and hell. Goal: keep them from annihilating everyone. Heaven seems easier, we'll just give them a ring and explain."

"Explain what?" Lucifer said. "Hey, it's Michael, so me and Dad stepped out for a while. Like, all of human history. But we're back, and I'm taking over command, and my first ruling is that Lucifer, the great enemy, is actually innocent."

"It's not like they don't know," Michael cut back. "Half of them were alive when you left."

"Yeah, and after I left suddenly there's a hell and a bunch of demons," Lucifer said. "Angels have convicted on less circumstantial evidence than that."

Dean groaned. "You'd think being the most powerful being in creation would make things easier."

"Hey, I fell and got more practice fighting," Lucifer quipped, in Sam's little-brother voice. "Lets see if you're still the most powerful."

"Not under this roof, I want this roof intact," Bobby said. "Also, quit procrastinating. Make the call."

Dean grimaced, and closed his eyes. He listened to the buzzing in his ears, and 'stepped into' the conversation.

" _I'm back,"_ Michael said, knowing everyone would recognize his voice. _"I have been gone a while. But in the time I've been gone, it was still our duty to protect humanity. I come back to find you've all decided to annihilate them instead."_

" _I've been gone, because I've been on earth, with Lucifer,"_ Michael said. He waited for the exclamations to die down. _"Because our Father left. Because Lucifer was innocent, and he was trying to_ keep _humans from becoming demons. Because Father did nothing to stop these humans from backsliding into evil. I wanted to find Lucifer, and find God,"_ he continued, giving the best version of the truth.

" _This apocalypse is nothing but angels trying to usurp earth from the humans. Stop trying to make it happen, and defend the earth from the overflow of demons – the overflow of demons_ that this apocalyps _e has created."_

Michael tuned out angel radio, not wanting to hear the cacophony of reactions he was sure was going on. He could rely on Castiel to clue him in.

"There are mixed reactions to your speech," Castiel said.

"That was the least clarifying thing you could have ever said," Sam said dryly.

"What did you say?" Bobby asked. "Because I was just standing here while you meditated, or whatever."

"Told heaven the situation," Dean said. "That none of this was Lucifer's fault, it's Dad who backed out, and they have made a right mess of it."

"At least the sigils are still on our ribs," Sam said, "So they can't bring the armies to try and kill me."

"Small mercies," Dean said.

Dean's eyes fell on Bobby, and the chair. He had never healed a human before, but Lucifer and Castiel were cut off from heaven.

Michael walked forward, and laid his hand on Bobby's head.

"What-" Bobby said, but Michael stepped back as soon as he opened his mouth.

"You're healed," Dean said, awkwardly.

Bobby, right there, stood up out of the chair and looked at Dean, eye level.

"If I had thought of this, I would have made you remember earlier," Bobby joked weakly. It was a lie, Bobby had dreamed that this would happen. He just hoped that he could keep Dean and Sam from the truth, as long as possible.

"I can also reconnect you two to heaven," Dean said awkwardly. "I'm not sure how, but if anyone can do it, it's me."

"Didn't think God gave his powers of forgiveness to anyone but himself," Bobby said, still staring at his restored legs.

"Fuck Dad," Dean spat. "Look, I'll just fly you both to heaven, you'll be connected again."

"The gates might be swarmed," Castiel said. "Do you really want to deal with that?"

"I know ways in other than the gates," Michael said, grabbing the two of them by the shoulder. "How else would I get around without being mobbed?"

In a blink, they were all gone but Bobby, still standing in his living room.

"Fucking angels," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Their landing was rough, and Michael berated himself. Trying to carry three bodies when it was his first time flying in one wasn't necessarily the smartest idea.

Dean ran to prevent himself from falling over, and Sam just fell flat right on his ass.

"What the hell, Dean," he said, in his best whiny-little-brother voice.

"Sorry! Sorry," he said. "I forgot how this could be."

"Let me fly myself next time, I spent hundreds of years in a vessel already," he sulked.

Castiel, for his part, was silent.

Michael brought them to his parapet, thinking as Dean would and going straight for the closest backdoor to achieve their goal. But as soon as they got there, Michael though to himself, _Castiel should feel thankful for seeing this_. This section of heaven, not many did.

Immediately, he felt a sort of tension in his self. His attitude as Dean, and his human attitude as a whole, for all his lifetimes, said 'it's not your birth, it's your actions, that determine your worth.' By actions, Castiel was more worthy than Michael many times over.

Michael remembered Castiel as a child when he fell, a child that seemed dedicated to doing the right thing. He'd grown into a fine adult, one who had fallen and forsaken heaven so that humanity might live. Michael grew into someone who selfishly _left_.

Dean was disgusted with himself.

But his self-righteousness, his leadership, his birth status as leader of the armies felt foreign. He remembered how he felt, standing here, contemplating falling. Everything was turning sour, and no amount of birthright and righteousness was able to set it straight. He, with all his power, couldn't circumvent the free will of humans.

"I suppose the will is all it took," Lucifer said, still just sitting on the floor. "I can feel heaven's power with me."

"It is this place," Castiel said, absolutely captivated. "It is the castle of The Lord."

He was right; Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel and Raphael all had housing that surrounded the center, the throne of their Father. Michael didn't want to go look at it, didn't want to see it's taunting emptiness. Still empty after all this time.

"Can we go now?" Michael said, uncomfortable. Years of humanity changed him, and suddenly he resented this place. Resented all the angels created to keep humanity safe, resented the fact that they abandoned the earth. He resented himself for abandoning humanity.

He remembered the last time he was here, full of self-righteousness and wrath, wrath that did nothing to keep humanity safe. He remembered loneliness, loneliness from angels that knew nothing of closeness, and he remembered feeling so unequipped to deal with it. He remembered wishing their Dad was there.

He remembered thinking Lucifer was right, and that Dad had set it all up. Michael didn't think, anymore, he was sure. And as a human he was angry, so angry that God did this to them.

Dean understood why Sammy was always seeking dad's approval, why in all their lifetimes he was always the son who wanted approval he could never get. Lucifer was gone, he didn't see Dad abandon them, in Lucifer's mind it was Lucifer who abandoned God. He couldn't be more wrong.

"Yeah, can we?" Lucifer said, in the same tone of voice.

Lucifer hated to think that he was right, all along. He tore his grace out because he couldn't crawl back and repent. Dad had sent him away, said he couldn't return. But he couldn't save the humans, either, failed at the very purpose he fell over.

It felt like Jess, all over again, except this time Jess was a hundred million human souls burning in hell. That is why he sat on the floor; he was reminded of his failure, reminded again of how secrets doomed them all.

Castiel's face fell, and he nodded. They flew away.

They appeared in Bobby's living room, suddenly, as per usual.

"God damnit!" Bobby all but shouted, spilling a drink on himself. They had appeared alarmingly close to him. "New rule, angels have to apparate to the front door and knock, just like the rest of us!"

"You've read Harry Potter?" Sam asked, bemused.

Bobby merely scowled. "You've been gone for hours."

"Time moves slower in hell, and faster in heaven," Dean said by way of explanation. "I guess a lot faster, since we were only gone five or ten minutes."

"Well stick around here, I'd like to be able to reach you when I have news," Bobby said.

" _So does praying to Dean and Sam work? I don't want to use your formal names,"_ Dean heard in his mind. _"Praying to Sam and Dean, my ass."_

"Yes, surprisingly, it does," Sam answered out loud. "I prefer those names anyways. Less baggage, and more secret."

"Sam and Dean Winchester are hardly secrets," Bobby said. "You're legends in your own right."

Dean grunted.


End file.
